Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from South Africa and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Neil Young & Crazy Horse to the techno kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by The Cure. All the underground hits.
All World's Most tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Prince Buster record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kas Product,
the Normal,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Rapeman,
Ronan,
Blake Baxter,
Chris Corsano,
Bizarre Inc.,
Scrapy,
Big Daddy Kane,
Deakin,
Whodini,
Porter Ricks,
Roxy Music,
Stockholm Monsters,
Brass Construction,
The Residents,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
a-ha,
FM Einheit,
Young Marble Giants,
DNA,
Organ,
The Motions,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Television,
The Gun Club,
Crispian St. Peters,
Ponytail,
Urselle,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Boogie Down Productions,
Rakim,
Stereo Dub,
The Trojans,
Prince Buster,
The Dave Clark Five,
LL Cool J,
Erasure,
Fela Kuti,
KRS-One,
Smog,
Underground Resistance,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
AZ,
The Smiths,
kango's stein massive,
X-101,
Sonic Youth,
Swell Maps,
Crooked Eye,
Brand Nubian,
The Fall,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Dead C,
Johnny Clarke,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Outsiders,
Girls At Our Best!,
Ice-T,
Electric Prunes, Electric Prunes, Electric Prunes, Electric Prunes.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.